


Grief

by ScullyLovesQueequeg



Series: Fic Exchanges [6]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: Angst, F/M, Incomplete, MSR, Season/Series 07, that really dumb brain disease arc
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:22:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23833813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScullyLovesQueequeg/pseuds/ScullyLovesQueequeg
Summary: Framed through the lens of the stages of grief, Scully finds out that Mulder has been hiding something from her. When the truth comes to light, Scully has to decide what she wants to do.
Relationships: Fox Mulder & Dana Scully
Series: Fic Exchanges [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1687192
Comments: 24
Kudos: 47
Collections: X-Files Angst Fanfic Exchange (2020)





	1. Denial

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Baroness_Blixen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Baroness_Blixen/gifts).



> My contribution to the 2020 Angst Fanfic Exchange. The prompt was, "Scully finds out about Mulder's brain disease before he disappears and, seeing as they're closer than ever (they can be dating already or almost dating), how does she deal with him not telling her? And what do they do now that she knows?"
> 
> **For personal reasons, I was not able to finish, but I plan on finishing it within the next couple of days.**

"I’ve got to leave early to get some errands done," Mulder said, heading for the door and getting his coat. Scully glanced up from where she had been looking through a microscope.

"But Mulder, I told you that I was coming over today," Scully said, all but whining. Mulder paused and turned to face Scully, giving her a forced smile.

"You have the keys, don’t you? Just head there and let yourself in. I shouldn’t be long," Mulder said, his tone tiptoeing the line between exasperation and irritation. Scully frowned, but bid him farewell. She flinched when the door fell shut and waited for the familiar _ding_ of the elevator before letting out a breath she had not been aware she was holding.

They’d been like this for weeks. Mulder seemed to be getting short with her for no good reason, and Scully felt like ever since they had started seeing each other, her relationship with Mulder was strained. Still, she wanted very much to spend time with him, since he had canceled last minute over the weekend. Dinner and a movie, he said.

And now he was slamming the door on his way out and leaving early twice a week. It worried her, but she chose not to pry since the first time she voiced her concerns, he had gotten angry.

" _I’m fine, Scully, why don’t you worry about yourself?_ " She recalled him saying. She wasn’t the one who kept avoiding the questions when asked. She didn’t avoid eye contact, or keep her movements hidden… that was all his doing and it concerned her.

But he had urged her to trust him, that he was fine and that if she needed to know, he would tell her. And then they made love. But it wasn’t like the other times, where they would move slowly and sensually, Mulder taking the time to enjoy her body and make her feel loved. It was impersonal, and in the shower, and after a flurry of stray limbs and bruises, they decided to call it quits and they didn’t try again for a while. Not that Scully cared.

It was around 7:00 when she arrived at Mulder’s building. She couldn’t spot his car, and so she figured that he was still out, running whatever errands he had. It felt weird going to Mulder’s place without him there—it reminded her of the times where he had taken spontaneous trips which ended up with her having to come to find him. She parked, and headed inside, hoping that the elevator worked for once—the damn thing was always breaking down every other week. She spotted a woman bustling her children into the elevator and thanked God that it worked, but relief soon melted into irritation.

"Hold the elevator, please?" Scully called as the doors began to close. The children hid behind their mother’s legs, and their mother, a harried, tired-looking woman, looked right past Scully as the door closed between them. She sighed in frustration and hit the call button.

"Don’t do that, you’ll break it," She heard a familiar voice say. Scully looked over her shoulder and forced a smile.

"I’m sorry Mrs. Whittaker, I’ll be more careful about that," She said, her tone polite, yet impersonal.

"You know, I ought to evict that boyfriend of yours… that good for nothing—he’s behind on his rent, you know. Clearly, he isn’t spending it on _you_. When you see him, tell him that being in the government won’t keep him from being evicted."

"I will Mrs. Whittaker," Scully said, ignoring the insult and looking up as she heard the elevator doors open again. A young couple stepped out and regarded Scully with no more than a passing glance, giggling to themselves about something only they knew about.

Scully stepped onto the elevator and rode up to the fourth floor. She started the walk down the hallway, which felt longer than it usually did. She passed by apartment 41, and frowned, thinking of its former occupant, Phillip Padgett.

 _'This building has seen a lot of death,'_ She thought as she opened the door to Mulder's apartment with her key. She pushed open the door slowly and flicked the lights on. The sight was not surprising to her but nonetheless, she marveled at the controlled chaos that seemed centered around his dining table. She closed and locked the door behind her and went through the motion of removing her coat, as her eyes scanned the papers on the table. They were all about different things--his mother's home, life insurance payouts, real estate related things, a couple of medical charts that she didn't recognize, a book on neurological disorders, and some other miscellaneous things. She knew better than to look, after all, it was his business, but the charts she figured were from his mother's autopsy. The one that she performed.

 _'So why don't I recognize those charts?_ ' Scully thought, curiosity getting the better of her and causing her to look at them. She lifted the chart to the light and examined it, but she soon realized that it wasn't his mother's chart she was looking at: It was Mulder's. Still, after Mulder's stint in the hospital recently, she was not surprised to see his chart. What surprised her was the date. It was only dated _last week_. His last hospitalization was a couple of months ago. He'd been to the hospital recently and hadn't told her.

 _'Just because you treat him sometimes doesn't make you privy to_ all _of his information you know. He doesn't know all of your issues either.'_

It was true, while she was his primary care provider, he was not bound to her in that sense. Mulder was allowed his secrets, wasn't he? It sat with her the wrong way but she understood; he was a grown man. She placed the chart back on to the table and was about to retreat into the kitchen proper when she spotted a letter dated for yesterday. The letterhead was from a hospital that she hadn't heard of, out in Connecticut. Again, overwhelmed by curiosity, she began to read the letter. As she read more, and more, she felt her heart sink.

_'Mulder's sick?'_

And just like that, the contents on the table made sense. The charts, the book… they were all for Mulder. Mulder was sick with something and he was exploring his options in regards to treatment. And he hadn't told her anything. She felt a sense of genuine hurt; she had been honest with him in terms of everything when it came to her cancer. He had gone with her to every treatment and was there for her more so than her family had been. Now he was sick, and he hadn't told her. It was a slap in the face. She didn't have much time to think about it, however, because she heard the locks to his apartment click. _Mulder was back._

She heard Mulder open the door, and she glanced over, imagining that to him, she looked like a deer in the headlights. He paused and seemed to be taking stock of the situation before he closed and locked the door behind him, leaving only the table between them.

"Ah, I'm guessing you saw my cable bill. I don't know who has been paying for the playboy channel, but it wasn't me. You know I would never do something like that," He said in a jocular tone. Scully frowned.

"Mulder, why didn't you tell me you were sick?"

There was a long pause, and then:

"Because I'm not…?" Mulder walked over to where she was standing and took the papers she had been holding. He looked them over and folded them, all while Scully watched.

“Mulder…”

“I don’t really appreciate you snooping around my stuff to be terribly honest. Go home, Scully. I’m fine. There is nothing to worry about,” Mulder said, removing his coat. Scully stared at him for a minute, before gathering her things.

“You shouldn’t hide things from me,” Scully said, but Mulder ignored her. When she was done putting on her coat, she left, wondering what else Mulder was hiding.


	2. Anger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scully is understandably upset regarding the news that Mulder is sick, but even more so that he tried to hide it.

When Scully arrived at the office the next morning, she felt a sense of sadness that seemed pervasive in that it bled over into everything she did. Her greeting to security that morning, her coffee, the manner in which she submitted her reports, and how she greeted the mail clerk were all tinged with a hint of sadness that threatened sometimes to choke her. 

When she left Mulder's apartment the night before, she headed straight home, and then called her mother.

"He didn't tell you at all that he was sick? That's pretty serious," She recalled her mother saying. Scully remembered fiddling with the phone cord, entwining her finger in the thick plastic, and idly bouncing her foot. 

"I don't understand why, mom. How could he hide something so huge? After everything we've been through… how could he?"

She remembered gripping the cord and releasing it, her anger quick and fleeting. 

_ 'He had no right.' _

_ 'Why would he do that?' _

Her mother offered the explanation that perhaps Mulder just wanted her to not have to worry and add to her already growing list of concerns. Still, it was a big thing to try and hide. What was she supposed to do when he suddenly started getting really sick? She had already noticed that his hand-eye coordination was beginning to be affected; more than once, she watched him drop something he normally would not have, and she noticed him trying to hide that his hands occasionally shook. She attributed it to stress, but in light of this new information, Scully wondered.

"This coffee tastes like shit."

Mulder's voice brought her attention back to the office, and to where he was standing by the coffee machine. He must have come in when Scully's mind had wandered off.

"It's the same coffee we always have. In fact, that's coffee from yesterday, that I reheated," Scully said, watching to see Mulder's reaction. She was trying to gauge his mood since they had ended on such poor terms the night before.

"Why didn't you just make another pot?" Mulder asked, turning to look at her, his expression between annoyed and anger, though his tone sounded more bewildered than genuinely upset. Scully blinked at him in disbelief and resisted the urge to take the coffee and throw it at him.

"I don't get paid to make your coffee Mulder. If it bothers you so much, why don't you just go and buy coffee from outside?" Scully said, leaning against the desk and watching his movements as he started to remove the coffee carafe from the holder. He paused and looked over at her, now more angry than annoyed.

"Is it really so much for you to just make a pot of coffee?” Mulder asked, taking the carafe towards the door, presumably to dump it out in the sink.

“Is it so much for you to just be honest with me?”

Scully watched as her words made Mulder pause, and she saw the blood drain from his knuckles as he held on to the carafe a little tighter.

“You don’t get to ask me that when you were the one I caught snooping!”

There was a silence that fell between them, one that made Scully internally recoil. He wasn’t in the habit of raising his voice at her, but today he had, and she knew a line had been crossed between them. Scully glanced away, and Mulder frowned and began to apologize, but Scully walked out past him, not really sure where she was going, but knowing she had to get away from Mulder. The office was making her feel nervous, and now, more than ever, she felt more like an outsider than she had when she first began working there. 

She was reminded of the cases they went on, and how often Mulder would be vague about his movements or what he was planning to do. At first, it made sense; he didn’t trust her. It was years later, after sharing some intimate moments, and through some of the most difficult times in her life, that he was, for what it was worth, her soulmate. She didn’t even believe in them. But Mulder has once told her she was his touchstone; the foundation in all of his shaky, uncertain nightmares and visions.

_ 'So why would he hide this from me?' _

_ 'Was it because I had hidden stuff too? I always came clean, I never hid anything out of mistrust and malice… only concern because I wanted him to know that I was certain of the things I was asserting. But this is different… Mulder knows, and he won’t tell me. Did Skinner know too?' _

And just like that, it hit—she knew exactly where she was heading: to see A.D. Skinner. She wanted to know how much he knew. She was aware that the men spoke to each other; Skinner was like a father figure to the pair of them, and she knew that after Mulder’s father died, he had taken to talking to the older man, almost as if seeking to fill the void his father left behind.

“Yes, I’m aware, Agent Scully. Agent Mulder informed me of his condition when he first found out, so he could use his PTO when the time came. I assumed you already knew this…?”

Scully felt hot around the collar, and her stomach churned.

“I didn’t… Mulder hadn’t told me. I found out when I was looking through his things. He was upset when he learned that I knew. It seems like I’ve been the last to know everything…” Scully murmured that last part, her hand curled pensively at her chin.

“I can tell you that his intention was never to hurt you. He was just concerned about how you would take the news. He was afraid that—”

“That what? I’ll be upset? I’m not upset—I’m angry. After everything we have been through… he couldn’t trust me. He took away my ability to choose and made a decision for me,” Scully said, more to herself. Skinner frowned.

“He’s not obligated to share his health information with you, you’re a doctor, you should know that.”

“I’m  _ his _ doctor! Forget for a moment that he is my partner, my best friend, and my boyfriend… he is my patient! I should have… I should have been told…” Scully said, her anger winding down as quickly as it had picked up. Skinner’s brows had raised at the mention of Mulder being her boyfriend, but he chose not to comment on it, leaving that issue for another time.

“Do you want me to try talking to him?” Skinner asked after a moment of silence settled between them.

“No. This is between me and him. Thank you for your help,” Scully said, turning and heading for the door.

“He really cares about you, you know,” Skinner said, as Scully was leaving. She heard him shifting in his seat and shuffling papers. She considered his words and gave a bitter laugh.

“He has a funny way of showing it.”


	3. Bargaining

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mulder has an accident in this chapter and tries to buy more time by making a deal with God.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise that the next one will be longer.

_ “I’m sorry, Fox, there is nothing we can do for you, we’ve run every test we could.” _

_ "And nothing?" _

_ “We just don’t know what this is. We’ve never seen anything like it.” _

_ "But how long do I have?" _

_ “I give it maybe a year, perhaps a couple months more than that if you’re consistent with the treatment. Do you have a will written up? I know a lawyer who can help.” _

“I’m not fucking dying,” Mulder said aloud, and a woman sitting a couple rows ahead of him turned to look at him with a fierce scowl.

“Language, young man! You’re in a house of God!”

Usually, he would have a witty reply. The words formed in his mind:

_ 'Lady, if God is there, He’s not listening to you. He's not even listening to me.' _

He got as far as opening his mouth to answer back but he remembered why he was there, and what he had promised: to be kinder, to go to church, to give up porn, to praise God. Anything that could possibly help him. He didn’t want to leave Scully. He let his gaze settle on the large crucifix affixed to the front of the church and let out a soft sigh that seemed to coil about his ankles like a cat.

If he was being honest, he didn’t think it would help. But he remembered that when Scully was in her coma, he had went to church and then she got better.

_ 'Those two things are not related, you know. It’s just a coincidence. God isn’t real and you’re wasting your time.' _

His eyes fell to his hands, which were shaking badly. The doctor said it was a side effect of his medicine. Tremors, dizziness, loss of appetite...

_ “That medicine may or may not kill your libido.” _

_ “Damn, you know, I just started dating someone, too.” _

_ "I'm sorry, Fox. I can give you something for that if you like, but…" _

_ "Don't worry about it, doctor. It's already a lot of medicine, and with the treatment… I just have to accept things will be a little different." _

_ "What does your partner think?" _

_ "She doesn't know yet. I'm trying to keep it that way." _

Over and over, his mind replayed the conversations with his doctor, reliving the moment he found out that he wouldn't be able to see Scully to the end of their journey.

"God, please," Mulder began in a soft whisper, kneeling in the pew like he had seen so many others do. "I need your help. I know I've been an asshole…"

He paused and glanced at the lady in front of him, who had since returned to praying.

"...but I need a miracle. It isn't for me. It's for Scully. As you know, I'm dying… but I would give anything if you could give me another chance to be with Scully. I would quit the FBI… give up everything so I could be with her.”

If God was listening, Mulder truly didn’t know. He just knew that praying didn’t make him feel any better, and seemed largely, to be a waste of time.

When he arrived back at the office, Scully was gone. She had walked out and had not come back. He had gone to lunch, stopped at a church and found Jesus, and _Scully hadn’t come back_.

_ ‘Maybe she won’t come back. You pushed her away. You coward. You didn’t tell her. After everything… you didn’t tell her. You really expect her to want to stay?’ _

Mulder took a deep breath to steady himself, and he tried to pour himself the coffee that they had argued about earlier. He lifted the carafe and began to pour the coffee, when he noticed it—he wasn't pouring the coffee straight.

“Shit,” He said, moving to put the carafe down back into the holder. There was a crash and the glass shattered. Mulder stood, staring at the mess and there was a bolt of fear that ran through him.

“Mulder, what happened?” 

It was Scully.

“I… I’m fine,” Mulder said, stooping low to gather the shards of broken glass. But something was wrong and now he saw blood.

“Mulder!” 

Scully joined his side and took his hands in her smaller ones, turning his palms up to examine the damage. He cut himself, but not too badly.

‘ _ What is happening to me?’ _ Mulder’s mind put forth the question that he already knew the answer to. He didn’t bother to hide the fear in his features. Quietly, Scully cleaned off his hands, bandaged them up and then cleaned up the rest of the mess, while Mulder finally straightened out, staring at his hands as though they might suddenly take a life of their own.

"I haven't been thinking clearly," Mulder started, his gaze fixed on the spot where the glass had shattered, but not truly seeing it. When Scully entered his field of vision, he glanced away, turning to regard the things on his desk.

“Can we just talk about last night? Please, Mulder…” He heard Scully ask but he was already rising to his feet and beginning to move around the desk. Scully intercepted his movement, and there was a moment where they both stared at each other.

“Mulder, please… stop shutting me out,” Scully said, her voice soft, and carrying a sadness he had not heard since her own bout of cancer. He remembered holding her in the hospital, her small frame clinging to his and crying softly into his chest.

_ ‘I’ll always be here for you, Scully. I don’t want to imagine my life without you. I don’t know if I could really live in a world where that is possible.’  _ He remembered telling her one night, while they were driving back from an appointment. She hadn’t said anything then, but he was sure that she knew: Mulder was in love with her. He was sure she loved him back. The way she wrapped his hands with tenderness and care despite her anger all but confirmed it. The edge in her voice, the concern that rested on her features—they all told a story. He just wasn’t sure how it would end. He needed it to be happy at least for her. She deserved that much considering the things she had been through already.  _ Emily. _

“I had an accident, that was it. I’m sorry I got angry yesterday, I… I just didn’t like you snooping.” Mulder said, turning to face his desk as he started to rummage through it. Her eyes felt like they were boring holes into him, but he wasn’t going to let her in yet.

“I just don’t want you to feel like you have to keep things from me. This is—this is huge. Are you… dying? Look me in the eyes and tell me the truth.”

The word gave Mulder pause, and he glanced at her from where he was sitting. His eyes fell on her ears, and he said quietly,

“I’m not dying.”

There was a long silence between them before Scully took her hand and rubbed the space between his shoulder blades. She had a half-smile like she knew he was lying, but she said nothing and went to finish tossing out the glass. Mulder watched her for a minute longer before rummaging through his desk again.

“...I don’t want to lose you Mulder. Not to disease or to your stupidity,” Scully said after a long silence passed. Mulder did not answer her, because he didn’t have anything else to say.

**Author's Note:**

> Life has a messed up sense of humor sometimes. In the middle of me working on this, I experienced my own personal loss, which made this piece really bittersweet.
> 
> I just wanted to thank:  
> 1) smilingoceanlover for listening to my ideas, offering to help me with research, and then still being just as enthusiastic when I changed everything up at the last minute. You are truly a gem and a great friend.  
> 2) K as always for the moral support  
> 3) Meg, for always telling me my ideas are good even when they aren't!  
> 4) Grammarly because once again I couldn't get this done in a timely manner and had to forego a beta...  
> 5) And lastly, you, if you've read this far. :)
> 
> I'm also sad to say that this will probably be my last exchange piece for a while, I want to take a break from them to work on some more projects. I plan to return to the exchanges probably in October or so.


End file.
